Oh My Darling, There's a Heaven
by Aicalas
Summary: Set of 50 100-word Jo/Zane drabbles. Spoilers up to most recent episode - straggle from season to season. Rated T to be safe. Please read and review!  title from 'A Comet on Its Way'. Please, please review - I'd really love to hear what you think.
1. Ring

** r i n g**

**1.**

It was the weight that truly caught her off guard, Jo thought. It was a tiny thing, a sliver of silver and sparkle, fragile and beautiful, but it pulled at her neck as she wore it, bumping against her chest in a constant tattoo. Like a lost heartbeat, thud-thudding endlessly, uselessly against her solitary heart. The weight of it, feeling it in her palm, suddenly seemed much heavier as she lobbed it at Zane, feeling it drag her world into his in one messy crash of thud-thudding heartbeats and lonely, longing looks and tiny, heavy, beautiful, hateful, tragic engagement rings.

* * *

_4.08 - The Ex-Files_


	2. Flirt

**f l i r t**

**2.**

He grinned at the pretty blonde, pulling off his helmet dramatically, enjoying the stares. If he could find no friends in this town, admirers would do. He could see out of the corner of his eye Lupo's angry face, coming closer. Lupo had been fun to antagonize, to prod and fight but never, ever to flirt with. Flirting with Lupo was like flirting with fire – exhilarating but terrifying, and severely unhealthy. Yet recently, the burns had been decreasing, and he caught, sometimes, the wistful glances that passed across Lupo's – no, Jo, he reminded himself – no - "JoJo," he said, smiling. "Jojo."

* * *

_4.04 - The Story of O2_


	3. Wedding

**w e d d i n g**

**3.**

Nathan's death was a shock, one of those events that is terrible for stealing such a constant of the world. Shaking, Jo threaded through the crowd, with no destination, no plan in mind. A hand caught her, spun her round, crushed her into a hug. "You look so beautiful," his voice caught, one hand in her hair, pulling her closer. "I prefer deathless weddings, so I can just lust after you in peace," his jokes, his laugh, were mirthless, hollow attempts at grief-avoidance. She pulled his face to hers, softly. "Please don't ever go."

Zane smiled. "You know I won't."

* * *

_3.04 - I Do Over_


	4. Hope

**h o p e**

**4.**

_I loved you first**. **_

__The words rose to mind, hard and fast and furious and a desperate desire to kick, to slap Zoe and Zane and everyone rose in her in one howling, choking mass until Jo pressed herself to the wall to stop from screaming out. And then it was Zane with the ring, Zane's questions, Zane's face closer and closer and _just_ where she wanted him and it was perfect. She felt his hand on hers and knew, remembered, felt, that they _fit_. She'd never realized just how far from home, from hope, she had been until now.

* * *

_4.07 - 4.09 - Stoned - I'll Be Seeing You_


	5. Peace

**p e a c e **

**5.**

There was a rhythm to the work, a constant routine. Each part in its proper place, an exact and inarguable spot. Numbers fell into place under his waiting fingers, then parts were soldered, screwed and tacked. Screw, type, solder, type, catch Jo Lupo's 'entirely innocent' glance and return to work as if she were part of this routine, as if the presence of Jo had never thrown him off. A routine with Jo Lupo, he thought. Like waking up together and he making the coffee, and she laying out plates and both switching off making pancakes... – what an odd thought.

* * *

_4.05 - Crossing Over_


	6. Music

**m u s i c **

**6.**

Jo closed her eyes, felt the beat and the pulse of the music under her skin and moved, not letting herself think about any movement, any turn or leap, just doing, moving, _dancing_. Every beat a fragment of time, a pause to savour, to taste before diving in fluidly, gracefully before – colliding entirely ungracefully with the broad chest of a highly amused man. "Hello, Ginger," he murmured huskily, steadying her arms with a smirky grin. "I'm sorry I can't be your Fred Astaire," he said, quirking a lip, "Although I can think of some _other_ fun things I can do."

* * *

_sometime in season 3._


	7. Butterfly

**b u t t e r f l y**

**7.**

_Thud.  
__Thud.  
__Thud.  
__Thud._

She was going until her knuckles split, her hands bled, until the punching bag ripped – she didn't care.  
"Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, right Lupo?"  
Zane was leaning oh-so-coolly against the doorframe, with that smirk that made her want to tackle him, here and now and –  
"Go away."  
"No."  
"Please, just go, Zane."  
"You don't want me to, Jojo."

She twitched.

"You have _no idea what I want_."

The words were bitter on her tongue.

"No, I don't."

He stepped closer.

"But I'd like to find out, Jojo."

He was much too close.

* * *

_post 4.09 - I'll Be Seeing You_


	8. Daydream

**d a y d r e a m**

**8.**

It was an idle dream, he thought, flicking through Popular Science, feet up on the bench. A stupid dream, to think Lupo had ever fancied him, ever even paused in locking him up to touch an arm, smile sweetly – nah. Daydream he might about the short - it was funny she was so short, he smirked – fireball, that's all they'd ever be. He sighed. Turned another page. Ran a hand through his hair.

As if on cue, the brunette came sprinting in, eyes wild and –

"_Zane_! _Yes, I will - _"

Out of all his daydreams, this was easily the strangest.

* * *

_4.01 - A New World_


	9. Makeover

**m a k e o v e r **

**9.**

Zane grinned up at Vincent, ignoring the nervousness bubbling into his chest. His hair was standing on end from his constant worrying, but he'd made an effort – clean-shaven, and wearing a _jacket, _for god's sake. He ought to have had a proper movie montage accompanying him: Zane Donovan cleaned up for no woman!

He shivered and went back to toying with the napkins on the table, reciting the Fibonacci sequence in his head in a desperate attempt to keep his nerves in check. He'd been made up, made over all for-

_Damn_.

-for a girl who cleaned up damn well.

* * *

_2.10 - God Is In The Details_


	10. Library

**l i b r a r y**

**10. **

"I never pegged you for a library type of girl, JoJo."

Jo snapped the book shut, careful to cover the title – _Theoretical Physics – from his eyes._

"Huh. Well, I pegged you for a _jackass _the moment I saw you."

"Jo…"

"No!" She rounded on him, furious. "You lied! You _used _me! You wheedled that information out of me, you slimy-_____"_

"I know! I know. I'm sorry. I was desperate." His eyes were big and honest. "Let me make it up to you. Brunch? Café Diem? I'm not good with people," he admitted. "But I want to try, Jo. I do."

* * *

_Post 2.08 - E=MC...?_


	11. Imagine

**i m a g i n e**

**11. **

It fell with a horrible spiraling screech, and in that second, every single nightmare came true. Zane, burnt, bloody, scarred, bruised. Zane, unmoving, not –

"_Breathe Zane, please-"_

And General Mansfield was watching, disapproving and confused, but she didn't care –

"_No, no, please be okay, please be okay-_"

Those lethal worst-case scenarios always had always panicked her, and the only way to stop that hyperactive beatbeatbeat of her heart was the real Zane, solid and warm and huggable. As she gazed at him through the bars, alive but still untouchable, she realized that nothing she'd imagined could hurt quite like this.

* * *

_4.04 - The Story of O2_


	12. Pink Silk

**p i n k s i l k **

**12.**

It was one of those things she'd never wear – pink (pink!) and frothy, the sort of thing only described by words like 'skimpy' and – ugh – 'girly'. One of those things _other_ girls wore, not her. One of those things, she thought, slipping it on, that no one but Zane would ever have had the guts to give to her – and no one but him, she thought, would have ever thought she would wear it. She spun in the mirror, and giggled, before stopping sharply with the sobering thought that no one but her would probably ever see this bra anyways.

* * *

_post 2.08 - E=MC...?_


	13. Running

**r u n n i n g**

**13.**

Legs? Stinging.

Lungs? On fire.

Arms? Sore.

But running was easy. Running, she thought, smiling grimly, was easy if you had something to run to. Anything – a thought, a goal, a dream.

_Getting a perfect score_: that was one more step, one foot in front of the other. _Beating Carter_:air in. air out, lungs pulsing with each heartbeat, each pace. _Zane_ – that very _last stride._

Jo grinned, panting.

And pushed the button.

She'd gotten the perfect score. She would – she was certain – beat Carter. And Zane? Zane would be so proud of her.

So proud of his perfect girlfriend.

* * *

_3.10 - Your Face or Mine? _


End file.
